


you think you've seen the sun

by drunkonyou



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Haircuts, Humor, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, side reyrose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 13:45:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkonyou/pseuds/drunkonyou
Summary: Finn asks Poe to cut his hair, and it's kind of a big deal.





	you think you've seen the sun

**Author's Note:**

> needless to say i saw [this](https://twitter.com/nbcwiII/status/1120089141511892993) wonderful art and was......inspired............
> 
> title from the best is yet to come by frank sinatra
> 
> enjoy!

“Force, Dameron, is your hair getting long.”

Finn looks up from his plate to find Poe standing in the doorway to the dining room. He's adjusting the necklace he always wears around his neck, a simple chain with a small silver ring at the end (he's been meaning to ask about that) and Finn notes, unfortunately, that he's just come from the shower. His shirt is clinging to his damp body and his hair, which  _ is  _ getting pretty long, is dripping water onto the wood flooring. 

“You growing it out for some exotic style?” Kaydel laughs through a mouthful of fruit. 

Poe returns the laugh easily and pads barefoot into the room. He takes a seat at Finn’s elbow and steals a breakfast roll from his plate with a grin. The lingering smell of various breakfast foods is overpowered by the scent of Poe’s heady shampoo. Finn bites the inside of his cheek. 

“Well, we are on Naboo, after all. You know how fancy these people are. Maybe I’ll ask the Queen for some styling tips,” the image of Poe with his hair done up like some Nabooian royal makes Finn snort into his mug of caf. “And besides, my hair isn't the only one that's getting long.”

He looks pointedly at Finn, chewing on his bread. Finn rubs at the back of his neck self-consciously. 

It's true, he's never worn his hair this long, even if it isn't very long at all. “I like it,” he says, a bit too defensively.

Poe meets his gaze, mouth still quirked in that seemingly ever-present grin. “Me too.”

Finn stuffs his mouth full of eggs and looks anywhere but the man at his side. The effect he has on him…

Rose and Rey join them not long after, still in their pajamas, fingers linked loosely between them until they take seats opposite of each other at the long table. Both of their hair is down, tumbling lazily over their shoulders, and Finn realizes at once that  _ everyone’s  _ hair has grown quite a bit since he’s met them. He supposes that’s because for once they’re not running, nor bouncing from planet to planet in search of viable shelter without a moment to really unwind. But now they can breathe for a while. Can, quite literally, let their hair down.

“It’s getting pretty hot though,” Poe continues, cutting through Finn’s reverie. “I think I might give myself a trim. Get some of the hair off the back of my neck.”

“You’re going to cut your hair?” Rey asks, sucking jam from her thumb. Her and Rose now both have full plates before them.

Poe, winding the long curls at the nape of his neck around his pointer finger, says thoughtfully, “yeah, I think I will.”

Rey hums but doesn't say anything more. It’s times like these that Finn wishes he was Force-sensitive. The Force lets one read others thoughts, right?

Kaydel and Jess leave soon after, talking animatedly amongst themselves about some holodrama they watched the night before, and when their voices die down at the end of the corridor, Rey says, “I think I want to cut my hair as well.”

The three of them turn to look at her almost simultaneously, and she blushes under the sudden attention.

“Really?” Rose asks softly from across the table. “You do?”

The revelation wouldn't be so jarring were it not for the fact that mere months after their scuffle on Crait Rey revealed that she’s kept the same hairstyle since she was a child, never even trimming it, for fear of her parents not recognizing her if they ever returned to Jakku. That’s probably why Rose looks a minute away from bursting into tears. Finn can’t determine if they’re happy tears or not, though; she cries at the drop of a hat.

Finn watches as Rey cards her fingers through her hair absently, now nearing her waist. He remembers a time when he never saw her with her hair down, always tied up in those three knots. The first time he saw her with her hair down he almost didn’t recognize her. And when he realized the significance of that moment, of her finally leaving some of her old life behind, he wanted to cry, too.

Rey nods seriously, an air of determination in the set of her jaw. Finn knows when her mind is made up, and now is definitely one of those times. That fierce look in her eye still makes him itch, even to this day. 

“Alright then,” Poe’s voice is thin when he speaks, almost like he himself can’t quite believe it. He throws back the rest of his caf like a shot and slaps his cup down on the table that leaves their silverware rattling. “Anybody else wanna make an appointment at Dameron’s Salon? Finn? Need a shave?” He reaches over and rubs his knuckles across Finn’s cheek. The action sends an involuntary shiver down his spine. “You’re getting a bit scruffy.”

Finn knocks Poe’s hand away lightly before he can feel the growing blush on his skin.

“I’m good, thanks.”

After they take turns washing their dishes at the small sink in the kitchen, Rose and Rey, along with R2-D2, announce they’re heading out to the meadows. Once they leave, arms full of spare blankets and a bottle that looks suspiciously like wine, Finn follows Poe back up to their shared room in the private retreat. It’s still fairly early, and they tiptoe past Leia’s quarters. BB-8 is awake and waiting for them when they step into the room, and upon noticing this Poe greets him and unplugs him from the socket in the wall. BB-8 immediately begins rolling in excited circles around their legs like a happy cat.

“Morning, buddy!” Poe exclaims, crouching to reach the droids height and rubs at his spherical body. “Sleep okay?”

Finn bites back a laugh; he swears Poe treats BB-8 like a child instead of a droid sometimes (though he's sure if it's brought up Poe would wholeheartedly disagree).

BB-8 makes a sound that sounds alarmingly like a purr.

“All juiced up and ready for the day?”

The droid whistles loud enough he’s sure whoever’s in the room next to them—Koo, he thinks—could hear him.

“Alright!” Poe exclaims, just as loud. Finn shakes his head at the both of them, though a funny feeling tugs at his gut.

He takes a seat on the edge of their bed and reaches beneath it for his pair of ratty old boots. Poe rummages around in the drawer of the nightstand on his side of the bed and produces a pair of scissors. After closing the drawer with his hip, he steps over to the large expanse of windows on the far wall and taps the handle of the scissors against his open palm in thought.

“What's on your mind?” Finn asks as he laces his boots up tight.

“I think I'm gonna go outside,” Poe says, spinning on his heel.

Finn sits back on the bed. “I thought that’s where we were going? Didn't you say you wanted to take Beebee on a gondola ride?”

“I want to cut my hair by the lake,” Poe clarifies, still tapping the scissors against his palm. “We’ll take you out later, Bee,” BB-8 coos softly. Turning back to Finn, Poe says, “My mom never let anyone else cut her hair. Not even my dad. Something about a bad experience leaving her looking like a Kowakian monkey-lizard...”

He sits next to Finn close enough that their thighs are touching. BB-8 parks himself at their feet and listens to the unfurling story with rapt attention. 

“Every so often Mom would head down to the little pond behind our house back on Yavin 4 and cut her hair. She'd sit on this rock on the bank and clean off the shears in the water. Sometimes I’d join her, and she’d cut my hair as well.”

“Did she teach you how to cut hair, then?” Finn knows the answer, and finds it silly he's even asking, but he likes it when Poe talks about his mom and wants him to go on for as long as possible. He loves the wistful look he gets in his eye and the way he toys with his necklace.

“Yeah, she did. Been cutting my hair myself since she died. And others, occasionally,” a slow smile blooms on his face and Finn feels his heart swell in his chest at the sight. “One time, Jess and I drank so much Correllian Whiskey that we, uh,  _ borrowed  _ from the general, and next thing I know I'm waking up in the cockpit of my ship covered in hair that’s definitely not mine, and Jess, crammed inside the droid socket, is sporting a new do. She refused to take her pilots helmet off until it grew back in.”

Finn holds his belly as he laughs, and BB-8 chirps in his way of laughing as well.

“Well then,” Poe says a moment later, cheeks still bright and eyes twinkling, “let’s head out.”

BB-8 veers off towards the other end of the corridor, probably to harass C-3PO, and Poe rolls his eyes at his little friend before descending the winding staircase. The sun is already sitting high in the sky when they step out onto the stone veranda overlooking the lake, and no sooner than Finn shuts the door behind them that Poe is shucking off his shirt and dropping it to the ground. 

“Man, it's gonna be a scorcher today,” he says, back to Finn. “Just took a shower and I’m already gonna need another one.” Finn tries his hardest not to focus on the way Poe’s shoulder blades work beneath his skin as he scratches at his stomach, or how low his pants are sitting on his hips. No, he's going to focus on that odd ripple he just saw on the far side of the lake and think about whether it was a Gungan or a Colo Claw Fish. 

“You hear me?”

Poe is facing him now in all his bare-chested glory, hands on his hips, and flashing him a shit-eating grin. 

Finn has the sudden urge to cannonball over the edge of the veranda and into the water.  _ Hopefully it was a Colo Claw Fish. _

“Huh?”

“I  _ said _ that if I knew how hot it was going to be here I probably wouldn't have wanted to come. How did Rey survive on Jakku for so long? I was there for, what, half a day and I almost melted.”

“That's probably because you grew up in a rainforest,” Finn tries to say it jokingly but his throat is dry when it comes out, and he indiscreetly coughs into his shoulder. Avoiding Poe’s gaze and half-naked body, he steps up to the edge of the terrace and spreads his palms on the stone barrier, and a thin layer of sand on the surface scratches his skin. 

“Just because it’s wet in a rainforest doesn’t mean it’s any cooler than a sand planet.”

Finn blushes. “Whatever. Besides, you would've come regardless. It's beautiful here.”

Poe settles beside him. “Yeah, you're right. Nice view.”

Finn doesn't think about how he wasn't looking out at the lake when he was saying it. Nor how he himself thinks  _ yeah, it is _ .

“I'm glad Leia was able to come,” Poe’s voice grows soft, almost sentimental-like, the way it always does when he speaks of the general. “After everyone she's lost, everything she's been through…she deserves it.”

Finn nods slowly, rolling a grain of sand between his fingers. The turn in conversation trudges up a sour feeling in his gut. 

Poe sucks in a large breath and stretches his arms over his head. “If it weren't for her, we wouldn't even be here. They wouldn't let us in until Leia told them her name. And suddenly here we are, on the nicest island on the planet. This is, like, one step down from being in Theed, I think.”

“Thank the stars for Leia.”

“Oh, I do. Everyday.”

Finn looks at him. Poe has his eyes shut and face tipped towards the sun, and he unabashedly trails his gaze down his throat, his chest, down his arms that are resting against the barrier. The longer he looks at him, the harder his heart beats, pounding against his ribcage like a thing that wants to escape. He looks away. 

The moment he trains his eyes back out at the glistening water, Poe says, “Well. Let's get this party started.”

He pulls the pair of scissors from his back pocket, and Finn bites back the urge to remind him  _ not  _ to put weapons—scissors  _ can  _ be a weapon when it comes to Poe Dameron—in his pockets since that one time he stuck a blaster in his coat pocket because he forgot to wear a holster and nearly shot his foot off. 

Poe drops into a sitting position on the ground, legs crossed, and Finn is startled to find him just diving right into it. He pinches his hair between his first two fingers, pulls upwards, and cuts. Finn watches the tufts of dark hair fall across his shoulders and onto his lap.

“How do you not need a mirror?” He asks him as he settles on the ground at his side.

Poe shakes his hair out and uses the same technique at the back of his head. Finn can see him grinning. “Practice. Lots and lots of practice.”

It's a very silent process, Finn notices. Poe, usually chatty no matter the circumstances, is cutting his hair in silent concentration. He's so focused his tongue is poking out from the corner of his mouth. Small clumps of hair are falling into his lap and littering the ground around him and the way he's bent forward slightly is making his necklace swing from his neck. Finn finds the whole thing wildly endearing. 

He realizes there's not much to see or say, so Finn lays back against the cool stone and folds his arms beneath his head, bracing his feet against the barrier. When the sun beating on his face has almost lulled him right to sleep, a hand slaps him lightly on the stomach and he snaps his eyes open to find Poe shaking out his hair, the pair of silver scissors balanced on his knee. 

“Wow,” Finn props himself up on his elbows. Poe's hair is considerably shorter now, and while it looks good, he misses the long curls that wound around Poe's ears and fell into his eyes when he slept. But really, it's just hair after all. 

Poe laughs, and his whole body jolts with it. “Hope that's a good  _ wow _ .”

“No, yeah, it looks good,” it's the truth. “I like it. Feel better?”

Poe climbs to his feet and brushes hair from his clothes. He uses his discarded shirt to wipe at his shoulders and the back of his neck, then pushes the hair surrounding him beneath the gap in the barrier with his foot and off the terrace into the water below. When he turns back to Finn, he's smiling brighter than the sun that's making Finn shield his eyes. 

“Much. Wanna go grab Bee now?”

He holds his hand out for Finn to take.

 

 

Finn wakes to crying. 

It's faint, but he feels like his ears are attuned to that sort of thing. The first thing that makes his stomach ache with worry is the fact that he's alone in the room. Both Poe and BB-8 are gone. 

Quietly, Finn pulls the blaster from beneath his pillow and sets it to stun. With the weapon held out before him, he tiptoes down the corridor to the source of the noise. His knees nearly buckle when he realizes it's coming from Rey and Rose’s room. 

When he pushes the already ajar door open wide, BB-8 is on the bed, projecting some show onto the wall. A character bursts into sudden tears, startling Finn so much he almost drops his blaster. 

“Beebee-Ate!” He scolds, the receding fear coming out as anger. “Turn the volume down, will you?”

BB-8 complies, only with a few annoyed beeps, and the volume on the program he’s watching lowers considerably. 

“Finn?”

Finn turns on his heel, instinct making him raise the blaster, and he comes face to face with Rose. She holds her hands up, a mixture of humor and fear on her features. 

“Rose,” he laughs and lowers the blaster to his side. “Sorry, uh, I heard crying all the way down the hall.”

“Oh, yeah,” Rose says, gesturing to BB-8 on the bed. He's nestled between the two pillows in a semblance of peak comfort. “Beebee loves those ridiculous holodramas. I think Connix got him into them.”

Finn hums. “Do you know where Poe is?”

Rose thumbs behind her. “In the bathroom with us.”

“In the—huh?”

“Poe's cutting Rey’s hair!”

Finn flips the safety switch on his blaster and tucks it into the waistband of his pajama pants. Any lingering sleep left in his bones evaporates immediately with Rose’s words, replaced with a nervous sort of excitement. 

“Really?” This moment feels almost transcendental. 

Rose nods fervently, and he knows she must feel the same way. She leads him into the small ensuite where Poe is sat on the closed toilet and Rey on the edge of the claw foot bathtub.

“Holy hell.”

Her hair may as well be nonexistent for how short it now is. Instead of trailing down her spine it's cropped just below her ears, sleek and straight. Rey no longer looks like the girl he met all the way back on Jakku, the one waiting for a pair of parents that probably won't ever return despite what she hoped. She looks like a woman now, like a real member of the Resistance. She looks powerful, more so than she ever did before. 

Poe spits out the comb he had clamped between his teeth into his lap. “Right?”

Rey is smiling so wide her face is half mouth, and she reaches behind her into the bathtub, brandishing a bottle of wine which she then brings to her mouth. 

“I feel like a new person,” she says, lips stained red. 

Rose makes a small noise behind him. The weight of Rey’s words almost unbalances him and he holds onto the doorframe. 

“Rey…,” Finn can't even find the words; it's so much more than just  _ hair _ . Rose rests a hand on his back. 

Rey thrusts the bottle out for him to take. “I know. It's big. Take a sip, it'll make you feel better.”

Finn waves her off but he notices the bottle of alcohol is almost half empty. “Are you  _ drunk _ ?”

“ _ No _ ,” Poe says defensively, combing Rey’s damp hair back. 

“I wouldn't let him near me with any sharp objects if he was. Me on the other hand…”

Finn snorts. “Can't believe you guys partied without me.”

“We were thinking of waking you up,” Rose tells him, squeezing around him into the lav. She grabs the bottle from Rey and takes an admirable swig from it, “but Poe said he wanted to let you rest.”

Poe flushes slightly. “Finn likes his sleep, what can I say.”

“Yeah,” Finn agrees, “I do. But I'm up now, so. Who wants me to sneak some snacks from the kitchens?”

Rey groans as loud as BB-8’s holodrama. “ _ Please _ . I'm famished.”

“You're always hungry,” Rose tells her, though there's no bite in her voice. She presses a quick kiss to the top of her head, dangerously close to where Poe’s scissors are still working.

The casual act of affection makes Finn’s stomach flutter with something akin to envy and he slips back out of the room and heads towards the kitchens.

 

 

The next time Finn wakes, the sun is streaming through the slats in the blinds and Poe has his arm thrown over his back. 

“Poe,” he says, voice barely even coming out. He shifts on the bed so he's facing him. “Poe, I think we missed breakfast.”

Poe retracts his arm from around Finn and tucks it under his pillow instead. “Fuck breakfast.”

Finn presses his face into his own pillow and laughs through the phlegm in his throat. Poe's mouth falls open and he begins to snore. Finn's not even hungry but he doesn't think he could fall back asleep if he tried. The thing is—he can't stop thinking about cutting his hair. 

Not really  _ cutting _ it, per se, just a trim. He doesn't have enough hair to cut, but he made the decision sometime after Rey swept up all her hair trimmings from the bathtub (“There's enough here to make a friend for Chewie!” She’d drunkenly cried) and threw them into the incinerator. 

The First Order never let any of the Stormtroopers have hair longer than a crew cut, and he felt if he were to let his hair grow out of the length he'd had all his life, that could be, like, his second act of rebellion. But seeing Rey decide to chop all her hair off after letting it down from the style she'd always known, he figures he could do something like that too.

If she can let go of her past just like that, so can he.

“Poe,” he says again, voice clearer this time, “wake up.”

“Buddy,” Poe groans, “no.”

Finn doesn't get angry with Poe very often, he feels he owes him that much for everything he’s given him, but  _ damn _ he wants to crack him upside the head right now. 

“I need to talk to you.”

That gets Poe's attention. He looks at Finn, eyes swollen and bloodshot, and slowly, so slowly, pushes himself up until he's sitting flush against the headboard. 

“What's up, buddy?”

“I…,” Finn suddenly feels very silly. He mirrors Poe's position and spends longer than he'd like searching for the right words. “I want to cut my hair as well.”

Poe visibly relaxes, his entire body deflating as an indecipherable emotion leaches out of him. Finn has the sneaking suspicion Poe thought they were about to have an entirely different conversation. What about, he doesn't know. And he doesn't think about it either. 

“You too? I'm gonna have to start charging. That'll be five credits.”

Despite the way he feels like his stomach is trying to claw its way up his throat, Finn laughs.  _ The effect he has on him.  _

“Five?” He says. “But I'm your best friend.”

Poe's mouth falls into a lopsided smirk. “You're right. Ten credits, then.”

Finn shakes his head.

They did, in fact, miss breakfast, and incidentally missed everyone's reactions to Rey’s new look, but Finn is actually thankful the villa is deserted as they leave their room. Even BB-8 unplugged himself and escaped for the day already.

They make up two steaming mugs of caf, Poe with enough sweetener to choke a Bantha, and snag a bowl of some type of cubed fruit from the kitchens and make their way back upstairs.

“Where do you want to do this?” Finn asks, crawling back into their bed, careful not to jostle his drink too much.

Poe sets the bowl of fruit on the nightstand and pops a piece into his mouth. “There’s fine.”

He slips around the corner into the lav, and Finn can hear him rustling around in the drawers. They haven’t been on Naboo long enough to accumulate much stuff, so Finn wonders what it is he’s looking for.

Poe reemerges not long after, with his trusty scissors and a pair of electric clippers in one hand, and a towel in the other. Finn starts at the sight of the clippers.

“What are those for?” he asks, bristling.

Poe dumps the items at the foot of the bed and grabs another piece of fruit. “Well, I’m not sure how to tell you this, bud, but you don’t have much hair. Not as much as me and certainly not as much as Rey did.”

Finn cradles his caf in his hands, letting the hot drink scald his palms.

“What were you thinking you wanted?” Poe spreads the towel out at the end of the bed and gestures for Finn to scoot down. Finn complies, sipping his drink and returning it to the side table. He settles on the towel, all the while eyeing the pair of clippers warily at his side.

He’d thought about it all night. “Just take some off the sides, I guess. Trim the top.”

Poe hums thoughtfully and plants himself behind Finn. A hand rests gently on his shoulder as Poe leans around him and reaches for the scissors and clippers. He sighs softly and it tickles the back of his neck, sending a chill down his spine and up the back of his skull. He suppresses a shudder.

“Alright,” the bed shifts again as Poe sits back on his haunches. The hand never leaves his shoulder. “A bit off the sides.”

There’s a sudden buzzing alarmingly close to his ear and Finn jerks away on instinct. Poe’s grip tightens on his shoulder, and he flicks the clippers off immediately.

“Hey, hey, what’s up?”

Finn swallows and wills his heart to slow its pace; it’s beating so hard and fast against his ribcage he feels lightheaded. He shuts his eyes.

He can feel Poe crawl around to the front of him, and the hand that was on his shoulder falls to his thigh, warm and comforting. He opens his eyes.

The way Poe is looking at him would bring him to his knees were he not already sitting down.

“They buzzed our heads every fortnight,” the words tumble out of his mouth on their own accord, ‘In a line. In the middle of the night. Half the time I wasn’t even fully awake; they would just barge in with their electric clippers and have at it.”

Poe’s shoulders sink. He looks like his words have physically wounded him. “I’m sorry, Finn.”

Finn doesn’t think he’s ever heard Poe Dameron apologize before.

“It’s okay, I didn’t mean to react like that. You can go ahead.”

“No, no, you’re fine. You don’t have to do this, Finn. you know that, right? Just because me and Rey chopped our hair off doesn’t mean you have to too.”

“I know that,” his nerves are beginning to settle. “I  _ want  _ to do this. I want to cut my hair.”

“You’re sure?”

He nods.

Poe looks at him a moment longer, just in case Finn changes his mind, then nods himself and repositions himself at Finn’s back. The room falls quiet.

“You can use the clippers. I’m okay.”

And then the buzzing starts up again, and Poe’s free hand finds Finn’s waist, and he feels okay.

“You’re not in your bunk,” Poe begins, “you’re not in the First Order anymore. You’re with the Resistance, where you belong.”

The dull scrape of the electric clippers against the side of his head, the vibrations on his skull that rattles his teeth, is all too familiar. But it’s okay. Finn covers Poe’s hand with his own and squeezes.

“You’re in your room on Varykino. Getting your hair trimmed by your...friend.”

Finn ignores the brief hesitation and focuses on his breathing. It’s over in a flash, and Poe is blowing hair off the back of his neck.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Poe replaces the clippers with the scissors and tugs at the hair on the top of Finn’s head much like how he did his own yesterday on the veranda. He tugs and snips, tugs and snips, and Finn misses the warmth of his hand on his waist.

“Alright, buddy, you’re all done.”

Finn passes a hand over his hair. The sides are buzzed almost down to nothing and the top is just a tad shorter than it was, and he loves it. He tells Poe as much and Poe laughs, climbing off the bed. 

“You haven't even looked in the mirror yet. Go on.”

Finn just shakes his head. “I don't have to see it. It's perfect.”

“Perfect?” Poe rubs at the back of his neck. “I wouldn't say  _ perfect _ …”

“It's great, Poe, really. I can't thank you enough.”

“It's just hair, buddy.”

Finn brushes any stray hair from the bed and his clothes into the towel and bundles it up.

“It's not just hair, though. It's so much more than that. When I left the First Order I felt like I had to do all I could to distance myself from them, to break their…,” he searches for the right words, “ _ shackles _ of conformity that followed me everywhere I went no matter how far I’d gotten from them. I wanted to make myself unrecognizable to them, but somewhere down the line I started not to recognize myself, even.”

He's not sure where such a speech is coming from, but he wouldn't be able to stop it if he tried. He feels like the floodgates have opened. Poe just listens with rapt attention, eating his strange cubed fruit that has to be warmer than room temperature by now. 

“I realized I was doing exactly what I'd been doing my whole life to please them: I wasn't being true to myself. I am my own person. I have a freedom over my choices that I never had before. Just being out of there proves that. I wanted to cut my hair...so I did.”

Poe doesn't meet Finn’s eyes as he takes a large sip of his caf, doesn't say anything after he swallows, and Finn is afraid he'd said something wrong. 

But then Poe takes two large steps to where he's standing by the windows and  _ kisses  _ him. He puts both his hands on the sides of his face and just pulls him right in. Finn freezes as he's taken by surprise, but eventually melts into it. His arms haltingly find their way around Poe’s neck. 

“You're kriffing incredible, Finn,” Poe tells him when he pulls back a second or two later. He drops his hands to his chest, curls his fingers in the fabric of his shirt. “You're so  _ good _ . Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Slightly embarrassed and a whirlwind of emotions making him tingle all over, Finn dives back in for another kiss. He buries his fingers in the short hair at the back of Poe’s neck and holds him in place, his mouth pressed tightly against his own. 

Finn has kissed people before, back in the First Order (though not many for obvious reasons), he's kissed Rose, but kissing Poe Dameron is like nothing he's ever experienced before. With the other Stormtroopers it was hurried and messy, just a way to release some pent up energy, and with Rose, as she'd explained to him after she was fully recovered, she'd only kissed him because she thought she was going to die and she wasn't sure how else to thank him. 

But with Poe…it feels like friendship and brotherhood and  _ love  _ all in one. It's not hurried, it's not a thank you (though in a way Finn does feel like he's thanking him) it’s not just a way to pass the time. It feels like everything he’s longed to feel all wrapped up in one. Finn wants this, has wanted it for longer than he can remember. And he thinks Poe has wanted this as well. He can feel it in the press of his mouth and the way he's digging his fingertips into Finn’s cheek.

There's a knock at the door. Poe pulls away so fast it leaves Finn dizzy. He almost immediately misses the taste of him.

“Finn? Poe? You guys in there?”

Rey. 

“Yeah! Yeah, Rey,” Poe sounds like he’s swallowed a handful of sand.

Rey knocks again despite having heard Poe. It makes Finn laugh through his heaving chest. “Leia wants us to have lunch down at the lake with the Naberrie’s.”

Poe gives him a look and mouths  _ “the Naberrie's?” _ . Then he calls to Rey, “Coming! Be down in a sec.”

They wait until Rey’s footsteps recede down the hall before launching back at each other. Finn kisses Poe like it’s the last time he'll get to do it, hard and long and with more tongue than he's used to.

“Okay, okay,” Poe pushes Finn back with a light hand on his chest. “We can’t be late meeting the general’s family.”

“Sadly,” Finn grins.

Poe shakes his head and climbs to his feet. He runs a hand through his hair and Finn does the same. Poe’s watching him from the foot of the bed.

“You look great. Very handsome.”

“Thanks. I had a really good barber.”

Poe slips his feet into his shoes and ties them up, smiling all the while. When his hand is on the doorknob, Finn hasn’t moved an inch; he doesn't want to move, to leave the warmth and the sheets that smell like Poe’s day-old cologne, the room that’s become dastardly hot since they woke up.

“You coming?”

He wants to relish this moment just a bit longer, but he doesn't tell Poe that.

“Yeah. Just gonna freshen up real quick. Go on without me.”

Poe opens the door, letting in a gust of cool air from the corridor. “I'll wait for you downstairs.”

He makes to leave, but Finn stops him.“Hey, Poe?”

Poe looks over his shoulder at him, eyes glittering expectantly like he knows what Finn is about to say. But suddenly Finn doesn't even know. “I…want you to cut my hair. Always, I mean. All the time.”

He feels stupid all of a sudden, but Poe just smiles at him. 

“Me too, buddy.”

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: generaipoe


End file.
